


and my youth i pray to keep

by MyLittleBirdFlies



Series: overwhelm them with my honesty [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Isolation, Kid Deceit | Janus Sanders, Kid King Creativity, Kid Logic | Logan Sanders, Kid Morality | Patton Sanders, Kid Thomas Sanders, a bit of an exploration on how sides form, kinda? he doesn't directly appear, my verb tense changes more who my favorite side is, theres not a lot to tag here folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLittleBirdFlies/pseuds/MyLittleBirdFlies
Summary: Before there were light sides and dark sides, before Thomas even knew about his sides, long before any of them knew each others names, there was simply a door with a yellow haze and the side within.(Or, how Janus came to be.)
Series: overwhelm them with my honesty [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779883
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33
Collections: TSS Fanworks Collective





	and my youth i pray to keep

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. This is the first fic I've written in over two years, so of course it has to be about Janus. And if I thought adult Janus would be hard to write, get a load of three day old Janus.
> 
> Title from: Black Hole Sun, Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox
> 
> Alternative title: the author tries to figure out what vocab kids would have while also balancing the fact that they aren't human so would probably know more than the average child

Janus had been alive for all of twenty minutes before he noticed the door. 

Perhaps ‘alive’ wasn't the word he was looking for. He wasn’t dead, he could think and form new thoughts, and draw conclusions from those thoughts, but he didn’t feel  _ alive _ . He knew he was a side-- it the first thing he knew-- and he supposed that would mean he was in some sort of grey area. Not alive, not nonexistent. 

But that was unimportant. At the moment, at least. He had appeared--  _ formed? _ \-- just under half an hour ago in a black space, not  _ nothing _ , but a room. It seemed to be a room, at least, but anytime he tried to focus on any detail-- the paneling, the carpet, a window-- the edges blurred and shifted until the window felt more like a blank wall. Each aspect of this space changed while he remained with his thoughts and the few things he knew.

Some things he knew immediately. They were facts, knowledge he was created to innately know: he was a side and his name was Janus.

Other things came less naturally, and rather popped into his head as soon as he blindly reached for them: he didn’t know where he was, he was the concept of self preservation given form, and that door hadn't changed like the rest of the room. That last one was a more recent development.

Standing in what was a wall, then open air, then a glass window, was a door. Unshifting, unchanging. It was black like the rest of the room, but unlike the rest with blurred outlines, this was covered in a yellow haze. 

With nothing else to lose, and perhaps less hesitation than should have been present, he walked towards the door. He barely had time to process the thrum of  _ rightness _ as his hand closed around the handle before he passed through the threshold.

Disappointingly, the room was similar to the shifting space Janus was before, but, before he could let out a sigh to convey how disappointed he was, the room changed. And not like the other room-- this time things took form, spreading from his foot that had touched ground and spreading up the walls.

The floor became a dark wood covered in soft rugs, while the walls were covered in a light grey. Furniture began to be outlined in a yellow hum, then were gradually filled in with detailing. A bed with soft yellow blankets, couches that belonged in an antique store, and an empty bookshelf-- all filling the room in a matter of seconds.

Another thought popped in his head:  _ This was his room _ . The excitement thrummed through his chest and he stepped fully into the room, softly shutting the door behind him. Slowly walking toward the bed, he gave passing glances to all of the items in the room. There were basic things-- lamps, a door he was sure led to an en suite-- but the room itself was sparse. Nothing more than basic items for him to decorate as he pleased. He sat on the bed, running his fingers over the blanket, feeling calmer than he had since-- well, ever. His gaze was drawn to movement just in front of him, and with his glance he realized that there was a mirror hung on the wall. For the first time, he got to see himself fully. 

Brown hair, pale skin. He looked to be about eleven, and was dressed in bland grey clothes, which he was definitely going to need to fix later. His eyes were a piercing yellow, his round pupils still trying to contract from being subjected to that dark room for so long. He guessed that since he was a side--

And just then he knew what a side  _ was _ . A part of a person-- a concept, a feeling, a function-- given form and personified to help their host. His  _ host _ ,  _ Thomas _ , who was four years old and who was currently being berated for lying about how he  _ definitely  _ didn’t take a second piece of candy from the bowl.

The excitement was back. He wasn’t the only side. He rushed back toward the door, swinging it open and-- it was still the shifting room. He huffed, slamming it closed.  _ How was he supposed to find the others then? _ He focused a bit, trying to recall anything to help and-- there! On the edges of his consciousness, he felt it. Faint, but real. Three hazy  _ things _ floated around, one feeling stable but curious, the other feeling ambitious and energetic, and the last feeling like, well,  _ feeling _ . These weren’t him.  _ The other sides _ , Janus thought.

  
He focused on the warm and feeling one, as it was the easiest just from the sheer abundance of it. This side must've been strong. After a minute or so of concentration, he felt something  _ shift _ . He threw open the door.

The other side was blindingly blue, seeming as if the sky had taken over. The room appeared similar to his, taking the shape of a bedroom with his door being the exit. There was a window on the opposite side-- and then it was a wall. Janus let out a groan in frustration as the room began to shift again. He back pedaled into his wonderful non-shifting room, shutting the door once more.

Where was he? 

* * *

It was on day three that Janus started to hate being in his room. The first day went slowly-- that day was filled with attempt after attempt of trying to get his door to open up to somewhere that didn’t change. The second day was focused on trying to pass the time. He found out he could focus on Thomas and figure out what he was doing-- nothing interesting, he  _ was  _ four. His bookshelf was still empty, unfortunately, so the rest of the time was spent staring at anything that was vaguely interesting. 

Of course, the third morning came and Janus decided his room was too empty, and his brain was too full, and he was starting to hate it.

After a few attempts to open the door and find somewhere  _ solid _ , Janus took position on the bed and tried to figure out what Thomas was up to. It was the only thing that changed and it wasn’t his thoughts, so it was better than anything else.

Thomas was at his Aunt’s house, who was asking if Thomas had eaten his steamed broccoli. Janus grimaced. All he had to go off of was Thomas’ recollection of the last time he had eaten that, and,  _ no _ , there was no way Thomas wouldn’t be forced to eat those accursed vegetables if he told his Aunt Patty the truth: he had given it to the dog.

Janus shook his head trying to think of a way out of this, and as did, he heard Thomas say “Yes.” Janus’ eyes widened, feeling a tug in his gut, feeling Thomas use him. It felt similar to the tugging into existence he had felt when he first formed-- an ache in his gut followed by a feeling of purpose.

Right before he could begin to settle into his thoughts revolving around how  _ lying _ was apparently one of his facets as a side, there was a knock at the door. He barely registered sprinting to the door, too focused on the only sound that hadn’t been created by him in  _ three days _ . 

He swung open the door, and for the first and only time, the other side was filled with solidity. Paintings hung on white walls, with ornate light fixtures hanging down. But the best thing, the most colorful thing, was the three others standing outside. The one closest to Janus, with his hand still raised to knock once more, was what appeared to be a young teen with round glasses and baby blue overalls. 

“Oh!” the other side exclaimed in shock. “Hey, friend-o! Did you just form?”

Janus shook his head, somewhat in awe, and somewhat as an answer. “No, I-”

On the first sides left, partially obscured due his short stature, a nine year old with square glasses and a periodic table t-shirt, cut in. “Oh! Oh! When did you form? Where? Do you know your function yet?” 

“I don’t know where. Everything kept moving and changing-”

  
Once again, Janus is interrupted, but this time by the boy on the right. There was a bouncing boy in a towel-cape and paper crown, who looked around his age. “Sounds like the subconscious.” A second later, he gasped as dramatically as an eleven year old could. “Did you form there? That’s so cool! I formed in the conscious mind like everyone else, but you got to form in the coolest part of the mindscape. I think so anyways, Curiosity says ‘It’s too dangerous Creativity, you’ll get lost’ or whatever. Anyways, what-”

The first side placed a hand on the rambling side. “Why don’t we let him talk, huh, kiddo?”

A groan. “ _ Fiiiiiiine _ .” The oldest side smiled brightly and turned his attention to Janus. It takes a moment for it to register that he was supposed to speak now.

“I’m- I think I’m Self Preservation. I formed three days ago in the- the subconscious, I guess,” Janus said. These sides seemed to prefer going by their function, so he would too. 

There’s a tense silence that overtakes the hallway. “Three days? Wha- why? Your door should’ve appeared immediately,” the oldest huffs. 

“Feelings?” Curiosity asked. It's less of a question and more of a suggestion.

Feelings shook his head in order to focus. “Right! Self Preservation, I don’t know why your door hasn’t appeared until now, but first things first! Disney movies!”

“Disney movies?” Janus parroted.

“Disney movies,” Feelings said, deadly serious. “After a new side forms, we spend the day watching movies.”

Curiosity nodded. “Forming is a startling ordeal. It helps to distract yourself, and the movies make it a fun experience.”

“Fun?!” Creativity shouts. “It’s Disney! It’s more than  _ fun _ !” He took off down the hall after that final statement, his cape blowing behind him, presumable to set up the TV.  


Curiosity ran quickly after him, shouting, “Creativity! Slow down! You’re going to fall down the stairs!”

Feelings turned his attention to Janus, almost sheepish. “I’m sorry you were alone those few days… but at least you’re here now! It’s been a while since we’ve had a new side, so it’s nice to say  _ yellow _ !”

Janus blinked. And then again, before realizing the door he’s been holding open this whole time is not covered in a yellow haze, but rather a bright sunflower color. It feels weird, surreal almost, to be speaking to someone else. He found himself laughing. Not really at the joke, but at the feeling of  _ warmth _ . After a few days of loneliness, this interaction had left him feeling more jittery than ever. Not only that, but talking to these three felt  _ right _ . It felt like his purpose is not only to protect Thomas, but also to know the other sides.

It makes sense-- they are all technically one person. But it also feels like more than that. Janus knew from his time focusing on Thomas’ experiences with his parents and brothers that this felt a bit like  _ family _ .

And, if it was anything like the love and warmth Thomas felt when his mom held him, Janus was looking forward to getting to know each of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If for some reason you wanna scream about something, my tumblr is here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ksfoxsoxs


End file.
